I'm Sorry aka Przepraszam
by LittleMaggie
Summary: Hermione is deathly ill, and Harry feels guilty... and he is also apologetic, feeling it is somehow his fault. Written in Polish and translated in English. I went through so much trouble; just read it!


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Author's Note: I noticed this site does not allow for fiction to be posted in Polish; that is an awful shame. I'm finally going to post a story I wrote in Polish, but I am translating it in English, just scroll down to the middle where it says "In English" if you are a fan of my work and want to read it. That is all I will say, except to apologize for errors in the Polish document, I have no Polish spell-check on my computer.

In Polish

- Harry, ja juz nie wiem czasami - tak mu powiedziala.

On na nia popatrzal tak jagby widzial ducha przed soba. Oto byla jego piekna ksiezniczka, z ktora sie ozenil, ktora jego kochala i z nim byla przez tyle lat. A teraz, pare dni przez narodzinami syna, juz byla tak slaba I chora ze nawet sam nie byl pewien czy byla jakas nadzieja dla niej.

Ostatnie oddechy Hermione, a on tutaj stal jak worek kartofli, nie pewien co on widzi. Czy to juz wreszcie smierc? Czy Hermione nawet nie poniesie ich dziecko do konca terminu? Czy juz byla tak rozpaczliwie chora?

Lzy stanely mu w oczach i przytulil ja, lkajac pomiedzy szeptami – Moja kochana. Ja nigdy, a _nigdy_ nie pozwole ci umrzec! Nie tutaj, nie na zimnym obliczu stolu operacyjnego.

A ona tylko przytulila swe gorace czolo mu do dloni i szeptala dalej – Nie wiem czy bede mogla nawet rodzic, wiesz? Czasami mi sie zdaje ze juz nie zyje, bo bol przechodzi… a wtem, znowu, znowu!

I placze, i trzesie sie, a on co na to?

Harry tylko mogl patrzec, tylko mogl wzdychac I myslec, _czemu to? Czemu moja ukochana Hermione? Czy nie ma zadnych czarodziejskich moc co mogly by jej pomoc? Precierz kosci mi odrosly nawet, a to co? Rak? Co to za rak?_

Lecz Hermione wygladala coraz slabiej, i w tym miesiacu juz przestala chodic, i tylko mogla trzymac jego reke i plakac. Plakala, bo, jak sama powiedziala – Poronie twojego syna jeszcze, Jezu, i na dodatek sama umre. Co za zone wziales, Harry.

A on probowal jej wyjasnic ze to zone najlepsza wzial, bo ta zona to go kochala, bo on ja kochal, i nic innego nie obchodzilo. Lecz tak naprawde, to nienawisc go oszalamiala, nienawisc do Boga i do natury, ze Hermione mogla przekwitnac jak kwiat przed nim, a on tylko mogl stac i patrzez.

I znowu siedzieli razem u doktora, a ona lkala, bo rak w mozgu, a na to nawet nie moga operowac czarodzieje, co dopiero zeby na to zaoperowal Muggle?

- Harry, prepraszam – Szepnela.

- Dosyc juz tego – Odpowiedzial, - precierz jeszcze jestes silna. Precierz nic sie jeszcze nie stalo!

Ale ona tylko mogla odpowiedziec jedna rzecz, - Bo jeszcze dopiero sie stanie, Harry.

Harry przymknal oczy i dotknal palcami powieke, bo juz czul lzy przeciskujace sie na powierzchnie. A Hermione przecierz miala bole, a on plakal wiecej niz ona. I tylko mogl powiedziec do niej, - Co sie stanie, to sie stanie. Lecz nie przepraszaj mi. Ja przepraszam, ja chcialem dziecko, nie wiedzialem ze…

- Nie – Powiedziala mu – nie przepraszaj ty tez. Niewiedzielismy. No I wszystko.

- Ale to nie jest po prostu wrzystko – Harry rzekl – Jeszcze sie wydostaniesz z tego.

- Harry, nie klam do mnie – Hermione powiedziala – Przyzekles mi przy slubie, przed ksiedzem, ze nie bedziesz klamac do mnie.

- Dobrze – Odpowiedzial – No to co mam ci powiedziec?

- Powiedz ze kochasz mnie – Powiedziala – Bo kurwa, kurwa boli znowu! – I zlapala sie za boki, jej cialo zkurczone, jak piskle male.

- Kocham cie! – Krzyknal – Doktorze! Doktorze!

Doktor wbiegl do pokoju – Co sie stalo? – spytal.

- Ronie, ja ronie dziecko – Hermione krzyknela.

Wtem ruch byl niesamowity, Doktorzy biegali wszedzie, a Harry stal z boku, trzymajac reke jego Hermione. Wtem ja wzieli do pokoju zeby probowac jeszcze uratowac niemowle, ale coz z tego, jezeli cialo Hermione samo bylo chore? Co to powiedziec o dziecku? Urodzila martwe dziecko.

A Harry stal poza szklana sciana, gapiac sie na operacje, jak Muggle doktorzy probowali ratowac ja. Juz on przebiegl przez kazdego czarodzieja w kraju zeby ja uratowac, lecz niektore choroby byly nie uleczalne, tak jak w swiecie Mugglow. I to jedna z takich.

Harry wreszcie juz niemogl patrzec, poszedl I usiadl na krzesle w poczekalni. Wtem doktor podszedl do niego.

- Zmarla? – Harry spytal niskim glosem.

- Zmarla. – Doktor odpowiedzial. – Prepraszam. Powiedziala twe imie jak…

- Nie chcem slyszec – Harry odpowiedzial. Pozwolil by wreszcie lzy splynely mu po policzkach. – Teraz to ja juz wiecej nie chem slyszec. Teraz to tylko moge plakac.

I wtem zakryl oczy palcami i plakal, bo juz wiecej Hermione nie mogla czuc bolu, i jedyny bol co zostal do poniesienia byl bol mu w sercu. 

– Przepraszam.

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In English

" Harry, I don't even know sometimes." That is what she said to him.

He looked at her as if he were seeing a ghost before him. Here was his princess before him, the princess that loved him and had been with him all these years. And now, just days before the birth of their son, she was so weak that even he doubted if there was any hope for her.

These could have been Hermione's last breaths, and here he stood, like an idle sack of potatoes. Was this finally death then? Would Hermione be unable to carry the child to the end of the term? Was she that miserably ill?

Tears sprang to his eyes and he brought her near him, sobbing between breaths, " My love, I will never, and I mean _never_, let you die. Not here, not on the cold metal face of an operation table."

But she only pressed her feverish forehead to his hand and whispered on: " I don't know if I can even give birth, you know? Sometimes it feels like I'm dead already, since the pain just goes away… and then, then it's back, back and stronger!" 

And she's crying, and shaking again, and what does he do?

Harry could only stare, he could only sigh and wonder, _why this? Why my beloved Hermione? Are there no magical powers that could help save her from this fate? They had once regrown my bones, what trouble is this? Cancer? What is this cancer?_

But Hermione looked continually weaker, and this month she had already stopped walking, she could only hold Harry's hand and weep. She cried because, as she said herself, " I'll miscarry your son, Jesus, and I'll die myself too. What sort of wife did you take, Harry?"

And he tried to explain that he took the best wife there was, because his wife loved him, because he loved her, and nothing else mattered. But in reality, the hate was overwhelming in him, a hate to God and to nature, that Hermione could wilt like a flower before his eyes and all he could do was stand there.

And once again they were sitting at the doctor's office, and she was crying, because the cancer was in her brain, and not even wizards could fix it, what was there to say about Muggle doctors?

" Harry, I'm sorry," She whispered.

" Enough of this," He replied, " After all, you're strong! Nothing has even happened yet."

But she could only reply one thing, " Because something is yet to happen, Harry."

Harry closed his eyes and touched his eyelid with his fingers because he could already feel tears squeezing out to the surface. And it was Hermione that had the pains, and he was the one crying more than her! And all he could say to her was, " What will happen will happen. Don't apologize to me, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I wanted a child. I didn't know that…"

" No," She told him, " Don't apologize either. We didn't know. And that's all."

" But that isn't all!" Harry said, " You'll get out of this still!"

" Harry, don't lie to me," Hermione demanded, " You promised me, at our wedding, in front of the priest, that you won't lie to me."

" Alright," He replied, " So what must I say to you?"

" Tell me you love me," Hermione gasped out, " Because fuck! Fuck, it hurts again!" And she grasped at her sides, her body shrinking inwards like a newly-hatched chick.

" I love you!" He shouted, " Doctor! Doctor!"

The doctor raced into the room, " What's happened?" He asked.

" I'm about to miscarry, miscarry the baby…" Hermione cried out.

Then there was unbelievable movement, doctors running everywhere, and Harry just stood off to the side, holding the hand of his Hermione. Then they took her into the room so they could still save the unborn child, but what was the point, if Hermione's body was sick on its own? She gave birth to a dead child.

And Harry just stood behind the glass wall, staring at the operation, as the Muggle doctors tried saving Hermione now. Harry had already run through every wizard doctor in the country though to save her, and there were just diseases out there that were incurable, just like in the Muggle world. And this was one of them.

Harry couldn't even look anymore, he went to the waiting room and sat down in a chair. Then the doctor came up to him.

" She died?" Harry asked in a low voice.

" She died," The doctor replied, " I'm very sorry. She said your name as…"

" I don't want to hear it," Harry replied. He allowed for his tears to trickle down his cheeks now, " Now I don't want to hear anymore. I just want to cry."

And so he covered his eyes with his fingers and sobbed, because Hermione could no longer feel the pain, and the only pain that was left to suffer over was the pain in his heart.

" I'm sorry."

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